


Sugar Shack

by Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Hunters, Angst, Case Fic, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/pseuds/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89
Summary: Reader isn't the average hunter. She keeps her hometown safe. She thought she had it all under control, until he showed up.  Summary will be updated as i add to it.





	Sugar Shack

**Author's Note:**

> B/f/n = best friend's name

You weren’t like other hunters. You didn’t spend every waking minute on the job. Traveling non-stop, living out of motel rooms, hustling pool and poker for cash, it just wasn’t for you. You, instead, kept your little town safe.  A town which, fate would have it, happened to have a rather powerful ley line running right through it. 

Of course, for a better part of the first half of your life, you’d had no idea what a ley line even was. No explanation for the times when someone turned up inexplicably dead or just went missing altogether. You didn’t understand why, for such a small town, there were an unreasonable amount of seemingly normal citizens who ended up in the psychiatric ward of the hospital. 

Now you knew, though. You knew that this town was quite a hot bed of demonic and supernatural activity; they were attracted to it like flies to shit. 

 

12 Years Earlier

 

Your first encounter with the supernatural that existed in this world happened when you were only seventeen, the summer before you would leave for college, two towns over. Your best friend (b/f/n) had the misfortune of getting possessed. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her the week before. Next thing you knew, she was being arrested for his gruesome murder. You knew that (b/f/n) would never have been capable of such a brutal and disturbing act. She was the kindest person you had ever met. 

You had gone to see her after her parents had bailed her out. She was beside herself over what had happened, near out of her mind with grief. At first, you thought that what she had told you about not being able to control her own body was just nonsense or some way of her mind coping with her actions. The more her crazed ramblings went on, the closer you were to believing that she might actually have done it. That was until the next unexpected murder.

You woke up one morning to find an elderly neighbor had been arrested for murdering her husband. From the way it was described in the paper, it should have been physically impossible for a woman her age. Something about the two events just wouldn’t stop nagging at your brain. It just didn’t make any sense. 

When your neighbor got released suddenly, you went over to speak with her. As you entered the house, you had caught a whiff of some foul smell you weren’t quite able to place. You noticed a small amount of yellow powder near the doorway, but thought nothing of it. Just a bit of poor housekeeping, that’s all. You went and sat on the couch, across from the old woman. You noticed the stench was a bit stronger in the living room and had to resist the urge to gag. Your curiosity won out over the bile rising in your stomach, you needed to know what would drive someone who seemed so pleasant and normal to commit such a heinous act of violence. As you spoke to her, you could feel a heaviness falling around you that you couldn’t explain. 

And then it happened. For a split second as the woman was talking, a flash of black in her eyes. You blinked in fright, but just as quick, it was gone. You put down to your mind playing tricks on you due to the stress of the past week you’d spent trying to help (b/f/n) clear her name. You left a few minutes later, no less confused than when you sat down. 

The third and fourth death’s that summer was much more personal. You came home from (b/f/n)’s to find both of your parents dead; their necks snapped. In one second that lasted a lifetime, your whole world crashed around you. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, on the floor of your parent’s bedroom, staring at their lifeless bodies. How long till you found yourself standing up, walking shakily to the phone and calling 911. 

The police and the paramedics arrived a few minutes later. Since there had been no sign of a break-in, the cops were ready to arrest you for their deaths, until they were able to confirm your whereabouts with (b/f/n)’s parents. After they took the bodies away, you were escorted back to (b/f/n)’s house to stay there while things were sorted out. You were still a minor for another month, and couldn’t legally stay on your own yet. 

The weirdest part of your parents’ death was the fact that when the coroner checked their necks for fingerprints, it appeared that each had killed the other. How was that even possible? How could two people snap each others necks, one after the other? And why? Your parents loved each other, hardly ever even argued. Why would either one of them kill the other? Nothing about this made sense. 

A couple days later you were visited by a man who had claimed to be an FBI agent, Agent Seger, working with the county on the recent rash of murders. He was an older man, late fifties maybe? He spoke with both you and (b/f/n) about the events. You thought nothing of his questioning until, in all seriousness, he asked you if you had happened to smell anything weird lately, more specifically sulfur. You asked him for clarification if sulfur was that stuff that smelled a bit like rotten eggs. When he affirmed that, you told him of your visit with the old woman across the street. 

He got up to leave fairly quickly after that, but you tried to press him for answers. What did a smell have to do with anything? Did he know what was going on in this town? You needed to know. He tried to reassure you as he left, but you wouldn’t let it drop. That night, you looked up what smelling sulfur could possibly mean. Other than gas leaks or health disorders that caused phantom smells, the one thing that stood out among the search results was the word demons. You skeptically clicked on the link and began to read the article on the websites’ homepage. And there you saw it, the mention of finding yellow powder, which was apparently sulfur itself, and seeing someone with black eyes. 

The next day, you went all over town looking for the agent. You found him just as he was about to turn down your street, presumably to interview your (possibly possessed) neighbor. You confronted him as soon as he got out of his truck. Which, by the way, what kind of FBI agent drives that kind of rust bucket? You hounded him for answers again and when he wouldn’t relent, you told him that you knew about demons, watching for his reaction. His back stiffened and he turned to look you straight in the eye. 

“Whatever you think you know, forget it. Mourn your parents, clear your head, and put this whole mess behind you. Trust me, kid, it’s better that way. The more you know, the harder your life will be from here on out. Go home. Go on with your life. Sometimes the truth is worse than the lie.” Agent Seger turned back around and started walking up to the old lady’s door.

You were not to be deterred. You marched after him, refusing to back down; your parents were dead, your best friend was on trial for a crime she couldn’t possibly have committed, and you deserved to know what the hell was going on. 

“It’s a demon isn’t it? The thing that’s killing people? The sulfur I smelled, the black eyes. I looked it up and the only thing that fit both were demons. This shit’s real isn’t it?!” 

Agent Seger stopped in his tracks and let out a low sigh, defeated sigh.

“You’re just too smart for your own good, ain’t ya? Dammit, Missy, just stay away from this case, okay? Let the cops do their job, and let me do mine.” 

“Look, I’m not letting this go! I’m not going to just let my best friend go to jail for murder when she’s innocent! She told me how she couldn’t control her own body. That she had to watch Johnathan die by her own hand, powerless to stop it. She told me how she could hear it laugh inside her head! I thought she was just confused and stressed out.” You let out a shaky breath. “But she wasn’t, was she? She was possessed. Just like my parents must’ve been. Please, I need to know the truth!”

That was when he relented, after seeing the pained look on your face. He could tell you were fighting back tears, trying to be strong when all you wanted was to curl into a ball and cry for a week. That was when he gave you ‘the talk’. About how the things that went bump in the night were, for the most part, real. Ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, all real. He told you that, yes, the thing that was killing the people in town was a demon. That that’s why he came here, to see if the supernatural was involved in the murders.

“You’re not really FBI, are you?” You asked him, knowing the answer already. “Who are you?”

“No, I’m not, but you can’t tell anybody that, okay? The name’s Bobby, kid. I hunt these things, and that’s why I wanted you to stay out of it, ya idjit. Leave this to me. This life, it don’t end no way but bloody, one way or the other and a kid like you doesn’t need to go gettin’ herself wrapped up in it. Just let me handle it, okay?”

You had just been about to agree, for the most part, when your neighbor came pulling up the driveway. 

She got out of the car and made a beeline for Bobby, her eyes black. 

“Thought I smelled hunter scum in town. Shame you brought the girl with you, I was going to let her live. It’s more fun to know let them go on, knowing they’ve lost everyone and there’s nothing they can do about it. Now, you’ve left me no choice.”

Bobby reacted quickly, quicker than you would have thought possible. He pulled out a flask and tossed the contents on the demon, its skin burning where it landed, whatever it was. While it was screeching in agony, he began speaking in what you vaguely recognized as Latin. 

The demon thrashed out and caught you by the arm, pulling you close and grabbing at your throat. Bobby continued, the words coming out faster. Just as you thought you were going to pass out, the demon released you, its body seizing as a huge cloud of black smoke came rushing out of your neighbors mouth. She collapsed to the ground, unconscious. 

You stood there, massaging your throat and coughing, eyes wide in shock. “What did you do to it!? Is it dead?”

“I exorcised it. Sent it back to Hell. Your neighbor should be fine now, if not a bit messed up in the head from what she had to witness.” Bobby tucked the flask back into his pocket and went to help the old lady. 

She came to just enough for him to be able to get her to the love seat on her porch. He laid her out on it and walked back down the drive to where you stood, still trying to recover. You were scared, sure, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you were also thrilled. You could feel a bit of adrenaline rushing through you and stared at Bobby in wonder. 

“That, was amazing.” You let out a shaky laugh. 

“Don’t,” Bobby said. “I’ve seen that look before. Don’t you go gettin’ ideas in your head. You could’ve died just now. That’s exactly the kinda crap I was tryin’ to prevent.”

You looked down sheepishly at his tone. You knew how freaked out you should be, but you couldn’t shake how awesome that had been. You knew then and there you were done for. There was nothing in the world that would stop you from learning everything you could about demons and all the other creatures that were out there. You would make sure that if anything its way into your town, you would keep the people you knew and loved safe. The demon had been wrong; you hadn’t lost everything. You still had (b/f/n), you had this town. And no one would ever take anything from you again.

 

Present day

 

Not long after Bobby had left town, you settled everything will related with your parents lawyer and had even been able to gain possession of the house before you turned eighteen. The life insurance they left behind had been enough to pay off the mortgage, with enough left over to take a few night classes at the community college in town. You picked up a day shift at a coffee shop in town, the Sugar Shack, and eventually became head manager. 

Even after you had gotten your degree, you stuck with your position. The money was good enough to get by in town, and it was a good way to hear about anything odd that happened before the paper got wind of it. 

You had kept in touch with Bobby for a few years, until he passed. His boys, Sam and Dean, called you sometimes if there was a possible hunt nearby. For the most part though, you kept out of that kind of hunting life. You didn’t want to uproot yourself and live on the road. You liked having a place to call home. 

Then  _ he _ showed up and everything changed.  

 


End file.
